


i want to tell you (but i don't know how)

by daring_elm



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, So So Much Yearning, Yearning, and there was only one bed, past bullying, past self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daring_elm/pseuds/daring_elm
Summary: Janus is always the last one awake at sleepovers. It only becomes a bit too much to bear when Patton is sleeping right beside him.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, One-Sided Moceit, Platonic DLAMPR
Comments: 10
Kudos: 76





	i want to tell you (but i don't know how)

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from neptune by sleeping at last!
> 
> i wrote this for a tumblr prompt and liked it enough that i decided to post it here too

Janus stared at the ceiling. The room was quiet—nearly silent aside from the slow, deep breaths of his friends (he was always the last one awake at sleepovers) and the occasional car rushing past the open window. Next to him, Patton was curled up—just inches away, close enough that Janus barely had to move his hand to touch his honey blond curls. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked.

There weren't many things Janus could say for sure, but one of them was that Patton had to be the nicest person he had ever met. He had done nothing, absolutely nothing to deserve Patton's kindness—he had been mean, cruel even, and he knew Roman still hadn't entirely forgiven him for the things he said and only sort of meant. Neither had Virgil. Janus understood, of course. They didn't have to forgive him.

But Patton, Patton  _ listened _ to him when no one else did; Patton gave him cookies when he had made some the day before (his baking was almost always stress-fuelled, so when he brought goods to share all five of them knew to be a tad gentler for a few days) and always slipped him an extra one when no one was looking; Patton was the first one to hug him in so long Janus couldn't recall the previous occasion. Patton was all the things Janus wasn't—he was soft and kind and good and worried about upsetting others in a way Janus never would have considered endearing. But most of all, he looked like an angel as he slept, his freckled face relaxed and his lips slightly parted. He had rolled over to face Janus just after he fell asleep, and Janus would be lying if he said he hadn't felt the impact of it throughout his whole body (it was subconscious; he  _ knew _ it was subconscious, but just the unrealistic idea of Patton trusting him that much made his heart jump).

Janus should have turned around, turned to stare at the wall in hopes that it would soothe the unbearable heartache if he didn't have to  _ see _ him, but he found himself unable to. Patton was so  _ beautiful _ , a light in the darkness that three a.m. usually promised, and Janus felt like a moth being pulled towards him.

His eyes focused on the scars on Patton's wrist. They weren't a secret—Patton did very little to hide them, at least from the five of them, but they still weren't ever spoken about. The cuts were a year old by now, but the scars hadn't faded enough to be unnoticeable. They probably never would.

Janus knew about scars—the burns on his face and hands had gotten him an array of nicknames over the years (his favourite was "Prince Zuko", but that was only because the others were crueller). They had always been avoided, met with unsure eyes that averted out of shame to have been caught staring. Janus was used to it. He knew how horrible he looked—hell, it took him long enough not to fear his own reflection; could he blame anyone for treating him like a monster?

At least Zuko had deserved redemption.

Janus watched Patton; watched his eyelids flutter in his sleep and thought of how Patton had never seemed scared of him. He didn't pretend his scar wasn't there, didn't avoid talking about it, but he treated it as if it was normal. Another feature someone had, comparable to a birthmark or one of the hundreds of freckles littered over Patton's cheeks. Janus didn't know what he'd do if Patton ever lost that gentle look in his eyes.

Patton shifted. Janus froze; his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding loud enough to tune out the sounds of the night. Patton reached out to him, unconsciously, instinctively, as if he had no clue what he was doing to Janus' heart, and Janus was convinced he would never breathe again.

Patton's fingers brushed against his palm—his skin was soft and warm, and when Janus tentatively clasped his hand around Patton's, he didn't flinch away.

He shuffled closer. As they went to sleep, Patton had been the first to volunteer sharing the bed with him—the two other mattresses were occupied by Logan and Roman, who were curled up in such a tight knot that in the low light, Janus couldn't tell where one of them ended and the other began, and Virgil and Remus, who were sleeping back-to-back, their shoulders barely touching. Patton had seemed almost offended at Janus' offer to put pillows between them, in case he wanted some privacy (Janus could only hope his relief wasn't apparent on his face when Patton argued against it) and as he hesitantly wrapped an arm around Patton, biting his lip as he leaned into the embrace, Janus wanted to kick himself for even suggesting to put space between them.

There was a word for this feeling; Janus knew it; felt it burn holes on the tip of his tongue. Patton certainly didn't use it sparingly—for anything from dogs to cupcakes to presents with too much hidden sentiment behind them. Such a brave thing to say; to confess; to declare proudly to the world—Janus couldn't even  _ think _ it without feeling like he would choke on the parts of his mind begging him to stay in the shadows.

He sighed.

It would be okay—right? It  _ had _ to be okay with time, and with support, and with someone full of faith beaming at him so wide that Janus could barely stand to look at him directly without fearing he would be blinded by sunlight. He didn't remember what peace felt like, but maybe he would learn.

"I love you," Janus whispered, then buried his face in Patton's neck.

They were going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this, please let me know! every comment counts :)
> 
> follow me on tumblr @daring-elm for earlier (and more) fics, as well as other sanders sides stuff


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